State of Dreaming
by sugarmilk
Summary: With an alcoholic brother and a depressed mother, Jodie Westfield already had a lot on her plate, but her brother had went along and snagged someone who would change everything, for every one of them, all because of a silly little bet.
1. I Saw Her Standing

this is the first fanfiction I've written in quite some time ( thanks to some inspiration from a friend ) and I decided to go back to my anime/manga roots to write something for Trigun. :)  
_I don't own anything related to this franchise, though I do own my original characters._  
This isn't going to be an extremely long story, but I hope all of you enjoy it nonetheless!

* * *

Dark hair fanned out on the dusty ground, framing a pale face that looked as soft as peach skin, her blue eyes being shielded by a slender arm while she laid in the shade of a building. She was tired of working, tired of standing, tired of this _heat_. The young woman was wearing a plain black dress that came an inch above her knees, her legs bare while her feet were clad in leather shoes, and in her left fist she held a floppy grey hat. They were about the only clothes she owned, much to her dismay, but thankfully she was done growing.

While she lay there, contemplating burying herself in the dirt, she'd come to the conclusion that there was something rather off about today, and she wasn't entirely sure why. A gut feeling told her that she needed to keep herself composed, and well, working in this heat definitely _wasn't_ helping.

Dusting off her arms and legs and anywhere else she could reach, she tugged the grey hat firmly onto her head and tread home, walking at a leisurely pace. The young woman never fancied herself as anything special, but she'd always dreamed of working alongside the folks who took care of the plant within their city. Her father used to help monitor the plant, until he'd been killed by a gang of outlaws for being at the wrong place, at the wrong time.

"Oi, Jodie!"

She twisted around to face whoever had called her name, a young man with chestnut hair, lightly freckled cheeks and a tanned complexion came scrambling to catch up. By the time he'd reached her, a flooding smell of alcohol filled her nostrils and she had to suppress the disappointed scowl that threatened. If there was one thing that Jodie hated most, besides outlaws, was drinking, and if there was ever a wasted mind being pickled by whiskey, it was her brother Dirk's.

Before their father's death, six years ago, Dirk had been well on his way to becoming a proper scientist; the boy was a damned genius! Jodie Westfield had always harbored mild jealousy and great awe for her brother's ability to solve most anything; even while under pressure, he'd always been quick off the jaw and could easily talk out of any situation.

However, the 27-year-old had fallen into treacherous despair, and blamed himself for their father being murdered, '_if only I had been to work on time... if only... if only..._' those were common lines that Jodie and their mother heard for well over a year before Dirk picked up the bottle. Now he drowned himself in liquor and begged Jodie for spare change to get more. And no matter how much she hated him drinking, she gave in every time. Jodie loved her brother dearly, but she hated seeing him in pain. And as sick as it was to feed his problem, he was always a lot more cheerier with a mug of beer in his hand. _At least he wasn't an angry drunk_, she justified to herself.

"Hey, Jodie," He smiled sloppily, with a pained obviousness that he'd been drinking for quite some time, "how're... how're you?" At least he was having the courtesy to hold a conversation, usually he went straight for the kill and asked for money immediately.

"I'm okay, Dirk," Jodie replied stiffly and began rummaging around for some change in her pack, her hands softly trembling while she searched; she was suddenly feeling very nervous; scared, even.

"Woah, woa-" Dirk rested a hand on her shoulder, squeezing a bit harder than he probably realized, his breath hot on her face as he slurred, "M'not- I don't want yer money. I got someone else payin' tonight an'- an' I want you to meet'em. Real nice, they are."

Her chest tightened, and if it weren't for the wide brim of her hat, she was sure Dirk would have seen the fear on her face. Dirk wasn't the only one who had changed since their father's death. Jodie cleared her throat, her hand still in her pack while she clasped slim fingers around the small dagger residing within. "Well... if you insist."

Dirk let out a garbled laugh, a pleased look spreading on his lips as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Jodie's brother stood a good foot and a half taller than her, so he had to hunch over a bit while he led them back to his 'secondary' home. Another thing that Jodie hated, and dreaded, was the Blackwater Saloon. If there was ever a place that crawled with shady guys... and gals... was this ramshackle hut. Every one of them looked exactly the same to her: inebriated, slathering fools who stunk of dead animal and probably hadn't been further than a step away from their drink in years; not only that, but most of them could hardly be understood.

She found herself shrinking closer to Dirk, as well as gripping tighter onto the dagger in her bag, while they made their way passed tables and grabby patrons who gave her sleazy smiles. "'Ere we are, 'ere we are." Dirk was all in high-spirits, but of course, how could he not be? He'd found a free 'meal ticket' for lack of better words. He flopped onto an open chair and slouched back, his right hand already holding a filled glass, and a loud belch of delight escaped him after taking a long swig.

Jodie sat uncomfortably on a wooden chair next to Dirk, the dagger pulled out but remaining on her lap while she glanced around, wary of anyone who talked or laughed too loud.

"Uh, hello!" She snapped her gaze toward the stranger who sat across from her, his bright eyes friendly and curious. Jodie hadn't even noticed that he'd been there the whole time, and she found herself embarrassed and feeling guilty.

"Hi," Forcing a small smile, and ever polite, she continued, "I'm sorry for not introducing myself... I'm Jodie. You are?"

"Oh, uh, I'm-"

"This fella 'ere is Vash!" Dirk chortled, knocking back another swig, and he patted the other roughly on the back so the blonde was forcibly lurched forward between each hit. Vash took the pats good-naturedly enough, his mouth twisted in a weak smile and his brows furrowed together as he let out a nervous laugh.

Jodie raised an eyebrow, "Your name is awfully similar to someone else's."

"Well, y'know! I get that a lot!" Vash raised his hands, waving them slightly before melting back to the table and nursing a small glass of water between his palms. He looked about as awkward as Jodie felt.

"Now how'd you end up companions with my brother?" Jodie asked, attempting to loosen the mood, and honestly, she was curious.

"Oh... just-just lost a bet." The blonde smiled meekly at her, and rested a hand on his forehead, "I was bested by him while he was flat-out drunk, kinda silly, huh?"

She struggled not to burst out laughing, instead letting out a quiet giggle as her hand covered the small smirk that had crept onto her features. Vash started laughing with her and eventually, Dirk was chuckling, too, even if he didn't entirely understand as to why. Once Jodie had composed herself, she gasped out, "My brother has a knack for deceiving people. I'd be careful not to place anymore bets against him." Vash's face seemed to entirely light up when she spoke, more than likely proud of himself for getting Jodie to relax.

"I think I've learned my lesson, lemme tell you." He nodded, idly taking a sip of water while he leaned back in a chair and stretched out his long legs beside the table.

Dirk was nodding off in his seat, mumbling words under his breath while the half-empty cup swayed dangerously close to falling from his fingers. Jodie quickly shot up and grabbed the cup from his hand, she'd completely forgotten about the dagger that she still held, and another bout of embarrassment flooded her when Vash pointed it out.

"Uh, you see... I've-I've-" Jodie paused, glancing around her and that feeling of unease swarmed her again. Everyone's eyes were on Jodie's small frame and the dagger that glittered in the fading light, "I needed to cut some loose thread from Dirk's vest!" Quickly redeeming herself, she did happen to find a frayed spot and easily hacked it away. "I really think I should get going. I appreciate you taking care of my brother... he uh, he needs more friends." _Even ones that were only made by a silly bet,_ Jodie thought as she shoved the weapon back into her bag, and was made ready to leave, before accidentally knocking into someone behind her.

"Oh... shit.." She whispered, her voice trembling as she turned to peer at whoever she'd bumped into. The fellow was towering and rather bulky; he'd been eyeing her since their arrival, and Jodie swallowed nervously as she stared up into his small, piggish eyes while a devilish smile wormed its way onto his thick lips. She bowed slightly, before taking a tentative step away from him, "I'm so very, very sorry."

He made a grab for her, but Jodie easily ducked passed him, skittering around and dodging other drunkards that tried to snatch at her. She darted quickly through the double doors, Dirk and his new companion readily forgotten, and made a beeline back home, tears stinging her eyes as she ran, the cool night air enveloping her in a chilly embrace.


	2. Fear & Loathing

Jodie was found quietly crying on the floor of her room, a blanket pulled around her curled up form. She hated that her brother blamed himself, hated that she felt so alone, hated her mother for distancing herself, and most of all, hated that her father had died. Ever since that fateful day, it was like everything was falling apart a piece at a time. Her family had quickly lost their credibility once Dirk started becoming known as the town drunk, and hardly anyone paid mind to Jodie's feeble accomplishments. Overall, it had become one hardship after the other and it was all she could do to keep things together.

Wiping at her eyes with the heel of her palm, Jodie sat up so only her head poked out from the covers, her eyes were red and puffy and her nose sniffling every few seconds. It was hard to believe, by appearances alone, but she was 24; however, her short stature and heart-shaped face made her look at least nineteen. The splash of freckles on her cheeks didn't help much, either. Jodie really didn't like that she appeared so young because people had a harder time taking her seriously, so she was usually ridiculed, ignored or hit on by some creep.

The young woman took a few deep breaths, before clambering to her feet, the blanket still snug around her shoulders as she stepped out of her room and down the hall, toward the kitchen. Her stomach was rumbling and she had a hankering for some sweets, there were some sugar cubes and caramel pieces somewhere... Jodie froze in place when she saw Dirk laying on the love-seat, and the stranger from earlier, sitting on their dusty old couch. She didn't want _anyone_ seeing her like this, all red-eyed and sad, let alone this _strange blonde man_.

Jodie stumbled back a few steps, a timid laugh escaping her. "Um..."

"Please don't hide!" Vash was standing up now, his hands raised in a surrendering manner. He was bent down a bit, a soft smile on his face, but he looked rather forlorn and apologetic, "I brought you something to eat. I hope you don't mind?"

Her stomach grumbled in response, before any words could pass her lips, "I don't mind at all, actually..." Jodie quietly approached the tall stranger, though she kept a solid space between them, her hands still hidden within the bundle of blanket about her shoulders before plopping down on the couch. "You didn't have to bring him back here, y'know?" She attempted a smile, though it probably looked entirely miserable, and shrugged a shoulder, "He usually finds his own way back just fine."

"'Usually' would appear to be the key word." Vash spoke gently, an index finger raised as he peered over at her, that soft smile never leaving his face. "I was saving these for later, but..." After getting comfortable on the couch cushion beside her, he set a box on his lap and flipped open the top, revealing two rows of six donuts within.

"No way..." Jodie's eyes practically sparkled when she saw them, "Are you sure?" Her hand had already shimmied out of the blanket, poised to grab one as soon as she received the okay.

"Positively sure."

Quickly enough, Jodie grabbed two and started to break them apart into smaller pieces, eating them at a measured pace so as not to make herself sick. "Thank you so much. I haven't had these in I can't remember when." She grinned over at Vash with a cheek full of donut, her woes forgotten at this very moment, and let out a sigh of contentment. The blonde returned the smile, feeling a bit more cheerful himself now that Jodie was in a better mood. "My brother is such an oaf." Jodie teased; Dirk was haphazardly splayed out on the love-seat, his arms and legs half-hanging off, his breathing heavy as he slept, "I'm just glad he's sleeping peacefully."

Neither one of them said anything until the entire box was empty of its contents, Vash and Jodie quietly eating the donuts in a comfortable silence. They joked a little bit about having a terrible sweet tooth and about idiot drunks at Blackwater; however, Jodie started getting tired herself, her eyelids heavy and drooping, and without much of another thought she was resting her head on Vash's arm, passed out. The gunman smiled to himself, feeling more than accomplished, as he peered down at Jodie's sleeping form. He closed his own eyes, and let out a tired sigh, the weight of sleep heavy on him as well, and nestled back into the couch, allowing Jodie to comfortably sleep against him.

**xoxo**

"Oh my _god_!" Jodie screeched, her whole body shooting upward when the family cat jumped onto her lap, surprising the ever living daylights out of her sleepy mind. Her left shoulder slammed into Vash's chin when he'd sat up to figure out what exactly was going on, and the poor blonde let out a whimper of pain as he cradled his face between his palms. The cat had vanished as quickly as it had shown up, frightened by Jodie's reaction. Taking a few inhales of air to steady herself, Jodie glanced over at the wincing Vash, a frown tugging at her lips when she realized what she'd done. "I'm sorry, _I'm so sorry_!"

She quickly got to her feet, frantic on helping him, but Vash was waving her away in a friendly manner, "Don't worry, don't worry, I'm okay!" Jodie wasn't the slightest convinced, though she didn't see him allowing her to think otherwise.

Dirk scoffed loudly in the doorway, leading from the kitchen to the living room, to catch both of their attentions, "Who's that?" His finger swayed slightly while he pointed at the man clad in red, sitting on their couch, who was still recovering from the blow to his chin.

"You don't remember him...?" Jodie asked, as she slid out of the blanket, that'd been snug around her shoulders, and set it carelessly on the couch. "He's Vash. Your drinking buddy from last night."

"Oh... _oh_!" A dawning realization seemed to go off in her brother's head, and a look of excitement filled his eyes, a beaming smile on his face, "Weeell, whatdya know! Come over t'get drinkin' with me again? Wanna lose t'another bet, hm?"

Vash quickly shook his head, laughing that weird, high-pitched laugh of his, while scratching the nape of his neck, "No, no, I don't think I could handle another loss."

Dirk didn't let that hamper his mood, he shrugged a slender shoulder and stifled a yawn with the back of his hand, "More whiskey for me then. Oi, Jodie... d'ya mind sparing some money?"

Jodie froze in place, standing between her brother, and the guest that still hadn't moved from the couch. Why did she suddenly feel so hyper-aware of her actions at this moment? She'd given Dirk money numerous times before, even in front of other people, so this time shouldn't have been any different. So why the hesitation? Straightening her back, she cleared her throat and tossed him an even stare, fighting back the rising guilt, "I-I don't have any on me, right now..."

His face twisted up first in confusion, then annoyance, then anger. For a brief instant, she thought he was going to explode into a violent episode of screaming, breaking stuff and possibly throwing a few punches, but Dirk had somehow managed to collect himself, and relieved a small smile. "That's fine, sweet sister." He was always most reactive when sober, and over the years, Jodie found that she was genuinely afraid of him. Dirk had returned to the kitchen, rummaging around the cupboards, more than likely searching for some form of alcohol.

"Please don't be shy on leaving," Jodie said, turning to face Vash again, with a little less resolve than before, because she could hardly meet his gaze, "I'm sure you've got much better things to do, right?"

"Uh, well, sure, I guess so..." Vash appeared conflicted, as though he didn't want to leave right away, but was feeling obligated to do so.

A corner of Jodie's mouth lifted up in a tired smirk, she didn't want her brother to hear, so she spoke in a low voice, "I'm going down to the doctor's in a little bit, if you'd like to come with?"

"Yes!" That same little light, from last night, came flickering back onto his face again as he stood up, easily towering over Jodie, with a pleasant smile on his lips. Jodie gave an eager nod, feeling a bit better than before. She couldn't explain exactly as to why, but she felt much safer with him around; just knowing he was in the next room, while she went to go change, put her mind at ease.

**xoxo**

As they were making their way down the dirt street, neither one of them said much of anything, until Vash broke the silence with a friendly jest about feeling like he was 'gonna starve to death.' Jodie gently smacked her forehead, feeling embarrassed, "I completely forgot about breakfast, I'm sorry."

"Oh, no, no! It's alright, honest." Vash smiled anxiously, and followed close behind as Jodie stepped into the doctor's office. It was a shabby, sort of rundown, building with only a few rooms: the lobby, the operation room, a couple of patient rooms, and a storage space. At the moment, Vash and Jodie were standing in the lobby; Jodie tapped the small bell that sat on the desk and both waited patiently for the doctor to make her appearance.

"Dr. Scott," Jodie grinned, giving a short wave, and Dr. Scott happily returned the gesture as she swept into the room in a rather grandiose manner, a bottle held in a veiny, splotched hand. The woman was probably in her late 60s, with a high widows peak and wispy, white hair dusting her scalp; although she was short, she stood proud and confidently, with the majesty of a leader.

"If it isn't my favorite gal, Jodie," Dr. Scott placed the bottle on the counter, and from what Vash could see, there were a bunch of small, circular pills inside. The doctor hadn't seemed to notice the tall companion next to Jodie, remaining entirely fixated on her, as she asked, "How's your mother?"

"Oh, well, she's y'know... so-so," Jodie punctuated her noncommittal answer with a shrug of her shoulder, before grabbing the bottle, and in replacement, she set down a few double-dollars.

"And who's this?" Dr. Scott swept her heavy-lidded gaze on Vash, as though checking him for some physical disease, her mouth drawn into a thin line.

"This is my friend-" Jodie glanced over at the stooping gunman, chewing her bottom lip for a moment, "His name's Oliver."

"Nice to meet you, _Oliver_." The doctor seemed a bit skeptical, she couldn't break her gaze away from Vash's retreating figure who was attempting to hide himself behind Jodie.

"Um, so we're gonna get some lunch. Thanks for everything!" Jodie gave a slight bow, and nudged Vash across the lobby and out the door.

She breathed a sigh of relief once they were outside, a small hand pressed against her chest. Even after six years since her father's death, this town was still on edge, and had grown increasingly more paranoid every year. A lot of the town's folk were worried that the infamous 60-billion double-dollar outlaw was going to arrive and leave destruction in his wake. Honestly, she couldn't blame them, but she didn't want anyone going around accusing someone as kind as... _this_ Vash, of being said outlaw.

_I mean, how could anyone as nice as him be a killer?_ Jodie thought, while she peered at him, chewing her bottom lip again, "You're name is just... I'm calling you Oliver, okay? It's safer."

Vash nodded compliantly, and rested a hand on his hip, his back straightened out as he gazed down at Jodie, "I don't mind, it's a nice name. And that doctor... Scott? was acting awfully weird."

"It happens when everyone's leery about newcomers possibly being the 'Humanoid Typhoon'," She made quotes with her fingers when she said Humanoid Typhoon, looking as though that was the dumbest name she'd ever heard. Truthfully, she was tired of hearing everyone babble on about him, especially since rumors were the only thing that flew back and forth between everybody. "It's whatever though. No one here has _technically_ seen him. I'll admit, you're the closest description I've encountered." Jodie had her sneaking suspicions, but this guy was just too _nice_.

"They say everyone has a twin... or at least, someone else who looks really similar..." Vash swallowed, scratching at his head as he started walking, "So, lunch, huh?"


	3. Stray Dog

"What the hell, Spikey?" A lanky man, dressed all in black, carrying a rather iconic giant cross swathed in cloth and clasps, stood gaping at the blonde sitting across from Jodie. The stranger approached them, and Jodie eyed him cautiously, drinking in his appearance. His hair was dark and wild and his chin scruffy. His clothes were completely caked with sand and dust as he sat down belligerently on an open chair. He'd hoisted the cross against a nearby wall, and oddly, the object gave off a rather ominous presence without it's questionable owner's help. He then crossed one long leg over the other, quick to light up the cigarette that rested between his lips, asking, "What're you doin' _here_?"

"Jodie, this is Wolfwood. He's a priest, albeit kind of a crummy one..." Vash appeared rather pleased to see the newcomer. Though there was a consistent scowl on this... _Wolfwood's_ face as he gazed over at Jodie. She ventured a genial smile, and he returned a flicker of a one before taking a long drag off his cigarette.

"So?" Impatience seemed to swelter off of the priest as he waited for his friend's reply.

"Just... checking out the sights, I guess."

"_Please_." Wolfwood was not at all convinced by the particularly vague response, he leaned back further in his chair, arms folded over his broad chest as he stared holes into Vash's head. "You can tell me later, then."

"Are you two... boyfriends?" Jodie ventured with raised brows, her fringe swaying as she turned her head back and forth between the pair.

Vash let out a cackle of a laugh, completely amused, while Wolfwood looked entirely disheveled at her query, "No. We're not."

"Okay... okay..." Jodie smiled sheepishly, returning her attention to the half-eaten sandwich on her plate and took deliberate bites to keep herself distracted.

"Spikey, if you don't get out of here soon, you're gonna cause her a world of trouble," Wolfwood grumbled, his voice was hard-pressed, staring at Vash with an impervious look. He adjusted the sunglasses resting on his head, nestled in the mess of dark hair, and leaned on the table with his elbows. The priest's somber eyes peered over at Jodie, his mouth pinched in a grimace that was hardly flattering; she thought that he'd be plenty more handsome if he genuinely smiled, at least once. When he spoke again, his voice sounded demanding and seemed to brooke no argument. "You don't want her hurt."

Vash refused to say anything, staring down at the plate in front of him, aqua eyes looking entirely perplexed, glum, and downright exhausted. After a few minutes of strained silence, Jodie thought they were going to sit there forever, the blonde sighed, "No, I don't... but, just a few more days."

"You're a damned idiot." The priest chided, taking another long drag before stamping the last of his cigarette into the table, "I'm stickin' around so neither of you wind up dead."

Jodie really wished she knew what the hell they were talking about. What could possibly be so dangerous about the gentle-eyed fellow sitting across from her? That feeling came squirming back into her chest, an instinct that told her that she knew exactly who he was. With an earnest smile, Jodie shifted in her seat and glanced over at Wolfwood, "I'll be fine. Both of you can leave, if you want."

Vash immediately shook his head, washing away any intention that Wolfwood had had of leaving by permission; the priest's face soured, "Have I mentioned you're an idiot?" Wolfwood pushed back in his seat and stood up, looming over the both of them as he grabbed his cross, "I'll be staying at the inn. Find me when you're done, _Spikey_."

"Is he always that grumpy?" Jodie inquired, blinking over at the priest as he stepped outside.

"Yeah, he is," Vash laughed weakly, his gaze still locked on his empty plate.

**xoxo**

"What's goin' on with you? You're acting weirder than normal," Wolfwood grunted with a raised eyebrow. He was eyeing Vash as if he were growing a secondary head. Vash was sitting on the edge of the bed, his chin rested in the palm of his hand as he stared at nothing in particular; his mind was somewhere far and away, hardly hearing what his priestly friend was saying. "Oi, Spikey!" The blonde gunman twitched his attention toward Wolfwood, eyes innocent and imploring, "Don't play dumb with me, idiot."

"It's Jodie," Vash arched his back, stretching his arms, shoulders and neck before flopping back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling as if it were going to give him answers, "and her brother."

"Hm? She's got a sibling?" Wolfwood's ears pricked, quickly curious, "Anymore family?"

"Her mother, I think... though I haven't seen her yet." Vash blinked his eyes, his left hand hovering above his face, as he flexed his long fingers open and closed.

"What about a father?"

Sitting up, hunched over and staring at Wolfwood with a slight grimace, Vash replied quietly, "Dead. And it's my fault."

"Is that why you're here? To make amends?"

Vash clambered to his feet, "I need to go check on her."

Without another word, Vash left Wolfwood in the confines of his hotel room. The priest had been abandoned with his own mixed emotions and an ever smoking cigarette that rested between his fingers. The wisps of white smoke drifted up and out the window, being whipped and dragged by a gentle breeze. Wolfwood sighed, dropping his head for a moment, before he peered out the window, watching with inquisitive eyes as that infamous red coat retreated further away.

**xoxo**

"Mom, please... take one? Just one...?" Jodie was gently pleading; there was a small, white pill sitting in the palm of her hand as she rested a free hand on her mother's shoulder. "It'll make you feel better... I promise." Instead, the older woman nudged Jodie away, and hid herself further under the piles of blankets and pillows that surrounded the frail figure underneath. Tears were welling up in Jodie's pale blue eyes as she continued to plead, "Please, mom... please..." It was always a struggle to get her mother to take the damned prescription pills; which ultimately helped her feel better, even if it was only for a few days at a time.

_Thwack!_

A sharp pain swiped across Jodie's cheek, and she'd been so surprised by the hit that she dropped the pill from shaking hands, quickly taking a step back. Fiona Westfield glowered at her daughter, her eyes like dark pits. With a lip curled up in disgust, she slammed back down onto the bed and hid under the covers again. "Don't you _dare_ touch me."

After all these years, Jodie's mother had never, _ever,_ laid a finger on her. Sure, she'd been difficult, but hitting her daughter? Jodie didn't even think that she was capable.

"I'm sick of pretending, Jodie... I'm sick of those stupid little pills..." She could hear her mom choking back sobs under the covers. There was the steady rise and fall of the blanket as her mother heaved for air between each wail. "They don't last forever... and I just get more depressed than before..." Fiona mumbled something under her breath, and broke down into another bout of tears.

Jodie hesitantly edged forward, "What did you say, mom...?"

"_I want to die!_ I want to die, you _foolish_ girl," her mother howled, tears streaking down her cheeks as she sat up to stare at Jodie again. Every day, _every time_, that her daughter tried to help, she only felt guiltier and guiltier. Fiona was finished with having Jodie take care of her. She wanted her daughter to _do_ something with herself; not take care of a weepy, dispirited mother and a drunk, washed-up brother. Of the three, Jodie was the only one who still had a chance. "Get out of here, _will you_?!"

Jodie bit back the tears that threatened to fall and sprinted out of the room, slamming the door behind her as she started for her bedroom. With deft hands, the young woman began packing, as much as she could, into the satchel she always carried around. Her fingers brushed along the hilt of the dagger at the bottom of the bag, and she pulled out the elegant weapon. She'd never contemplated... killing herself, even now the thought made her sick, and the fact that her own mother would want to so easily throw her life away... Jodie frowned and put the blade back, stuffing some clothes and a few snacks over top.

At first, she didn't particularly know where she was going, until she'd remembered Wolfwood's words from earlier today, and headed straight for the inn. She wasn't sure if the priest would take her with open arms, but at the moment, Vash and Wolfwood were the only two people that she could turn to for help.

Although, that plan had been hindered when she opened the front door and came face-first into her brother's chest; she stepped back, peering up at him with worried eyes. Dirk stared back, looking vehement and ready to rip someone to shreds; Jodie was pretty positive he hadn't gotten a lick of alcohol today. A soft quiver of fear shot up her spine as she dipped passed his menacing form to get outside, her feet skittering back a safe distance in case he decided to take a swing.

Dirk quickly lurched toward her, grabbing at anything that was close to his hand, and managed to grab a firm hold of her bag strap. Jodie stifled a scream, pulling as far back as she could from him, she _couldn't_ let him have her satchel. "Dirk, stop! _Please!_ I'll give you whatever money I have, just please, _please_, let go." However, he wasn't having any of her words and yanked her close to him, grabbing a hold of her thin neck; Jodie cursed herself for packing that stupid dagger at the bottom of her bag.

His hands were much larger, _stronger_, than hers, but that didn't stop Jodie from struggling to break free; she didn't want to die today, she'd been living six years for her mother and brother and now she needed to live for _herself_. No one was going to take that away from her, _no one_. She'd go down fighting with every last breath. If there was one thing that they'd taught her is to not senselessly throw away her potential, _her life_. Jodie clawed and gripped and pulled at the fingers wrapped tightly around her throat; her vision narrowing after each passing second.

Would her own flesh and blood really kill her? Was he really going to do this? After being hit by their mother, Jodie wouldn't be all that surprised. The abuse had been building up for years, and Dirk only remained docile when he was pickled with whiskey. There had been those nights though, when he'd come home sober, groggy and vicious; when he'd shove Jodie into a wall, or onto the floor, if she couldn't provide him with money. It was weird. Instead of being fueled with violence when getting drunk, he grew friendlier, _cheerful_. The thought made her sad.

The oxygen passing through her lungs was becoming a chore between each inhale, and her vision was growing ever darker, narrower, eyelids drooping. She was going to die after all. How disappointing.


End file.
